


The Wages of Death

by katkat42



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-22 03:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katkat42/pseuds/katkat42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard explains to the asari therapist in Huerta Memorial why she authorized the PTSD commando to have a weapon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wages of Death

Shepard really didn't want to be at Huerta Memorial Hospital. It reminded her too much of friends lost and nearly lost.

And of worried friends looking for family members. She glanced at the corner where she had overheard an asari commando undergoing PTSD therapy. Aeian, her name had been. Shepard had wondered why they didn't have a private room for such counselling to take place in the Presidium. Perhaps it was not considered important enough? Were resources on the Presidium really that low? Or perhaps the asari simply didn't consider medical confidentiality to be very important.

As she purchased more medi-gel from the Sirta sales terminal, she replayed in her mind the conversation with Joker. " _You see this? Tiptree. Small colony in the ass end of nowhere. My dad lives there. So does my sister. Reapers rolled in about two weeks ago. So you can assume that I'm generally aware there's a war on, Commander!_ " She remembered Joker telling her about his sister Hilary and her ambition to be a pilot just like her big brother.

As she walked back to the elevator, she couldn't help looking over her shoulder again. The asari therapist was sitting there, head in her hands, in a posture of defeat. "What did I do wrong?" she was whispering.

She really shouldn't have done it. All logic argued against it. But Shepard turned around and approached the asari. "It wasn't your fault; it was mine," Shepard said abruptly.

The asari looked up at her. "What?"

"The commando. Aeian T'Goni, was it? My fault. Not yours."

Taking in her Alliance uniform, the asari looked at her without recognition. "How do you mean?"

"I signed the order authorising her to have a gun."

Shadows of anger crossed the asari's face. "Why would you do that? She was on suicide watch. She was clearly having trouble managing her guilt for her mission on Tiptree. What gives you the right to interfere with soldiers' counselling, anyway?"

Shepard sighed. "I'm a Spectre, ma'am. Her petition to have a weapon crossed my desk, and I authorized it."

"But why?" snapped the asari.

More memories played in Shepard's mind. " _I'm getting reports of refugee ships from Tiptree landing on salarian colonies." Liara's voice over the intercom. "I don't have names. I'm sorry. It was... mostly children." Joker's desperately hopeful voice: "Well, Gunny -- uh, Hilary, my sister, Gunny's a nickname, she's had it since -- she's only fifteen. So if it's children, then maybe I only lost my dad. Kind of an asshole thing to hope for._ " She threw herself into the chair oposite the asari. "Because, even though I've talked my people out of taking petty revenge again and again, apparently I'm not above it myself," she snapped.

...

This human Spectre needed someone to talk to about this, it was clear. Part of the therapist wanted to go into professional mode, reassure this human that everyone has baser instincts and that it's not possible to be in control of them all of the time. But her own baser instincts wanted to pump this human for information, impress on her that what she had done was wrong, show her how much she had hurt the staff that had been trying to nurse Aeian back to health. Well, it seemed to be a day for baser instincts. Aeian's petition had only been processed that morning. So she left reassurances unsaid.

"What do you mean by 'petty revenge'?" she asked.

"How do I put this?" the human muttered. Finally she began. "Look. This war is brutal. People out there are being slaughtered by the city. And we --" she tapped the Alliance patch on her uniform "-- are supposed to protect them. Those of us on the front lines are clinging to any hope we can. Everyone on my crew has someone out there that they are hoping to see again after this is all over. For my pilot, it's his father and especially his sister." Uninvited, she took a sip of water from a nearby glass. "He told me all about his father's farm on Tiptree, how his teenage sister Hilary wanted to follow him into the military and be a pilot just like him. He's so proud of his sister." She looked at her hands. "Recently we learned that some of the children from Tiptree made it safely to salarian space, but there's been no news of any adult refugee groups making it safely off that colony. So he's down to hoping for just his sister's safety."

The implication left the therapist wide-eyed. "You think that the farm girl Aeian killed, the girl with the broken leg, was your pilot's sister."

The human didn't bother to confirm this. "My pilot is one of my most loyal friends," she said instead. "But learning that he's lost his entire family would devastate him. And to tell him that his sister fell, not to Reapers, but to _friendly fire_? That's adding insult to a deeply debilitating injury." She stood again. "No one hurts my friends like that. No one."

The therapist had never imagined that she would be frightened of a human, but this one scared her. "One question." She was grateful that her voice didn't waver.

"Yes?"

"You said you've stopped your people from taking revenge before. If you know how corrosive revenge can be, and you knew this would be an act of revenge, why did you let _yourself_ do it?"

This seemed to catch the human off-guard. She stared out the window for a moment before answering. "I guess it's because I'm already scarred. I learned after the Battle of Torfan that revenge can hurt you. But I also learned that I can take the hurt. It wasn't a pleasant experience, and I don't want my friends to go through it, but I learned that I can survive it. Just like I can destroy a mass relay and the 300,000 colonists in-system to thwart a Reaper attack. It scarred me, but I'm still here. I can still fight."

_Destroy a mass relay? That was... I'm talking to...?_ But by the time the shock of recognition had worn off, Commander Shepard had left.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after approving the commando's request for a weapon in my second playthrough, when I had declined to do so in my first. I'm imagining this to be a colonist/Butcher femShep, who has leaned to the Paragon side of Paragade ever since Torfan. After piecing together the commando's story with that of Joker's family, I found myself imagining circumstances under which a mostly-paragon Shepard would approve that request.


End file.
